Breathing
by thebutterfliesarewilting
Summary: You open your mouth, about to tell him to shut the hell up and leave you alone, but you don't. You cough instead, and you can't stop. You keep on coughing, and your face feels hot and you think you might just die right here from coughing.
1. Chapter 1

"I hate you!" You're screaming at him. You don't know why you said it, and you know you'll end up regretting it, but right now you're too mad to care.

"Yeah, Janie, I know. I'm the world's worst brother because I won't let you date at your age, especially because he's almost two years older than you," he says to you. He sounds tired, and you know it's partially your fault. It's late at night and you know he's coming down from a buzz. You could have brought it up later, and now you're wishing you did.

"No he ain't! He's a year older than me! I'll be fourteen soon! He's only fifth teen! It ain't like he's an old man, Two Bit!" With each word you're getting louder and angrier. You don't see what the big deal is. It's only Ponyboy. Two Bit's been with girls that were younger than him plenty of times. He always has some stupid blonde on his arm.

"Janie, I know teenage boys. They're all the same. They all want one thing, and I think you know what that is."

"You know, Two Bit, just because all you want is a good fucking, it doesn't mean that's what every teenage boy wants!" You're breathing heavy, and you're voice is hoarse. You don't know why you're so mad at Two Bit, and saying such hateful things. You usually always get along. It's just a stupid date, you tell yourself. You need to calm down. You can't bear to look at Two Bit, because you know that hit him hard.

Your breathing has become sporadic and it's starting to scare you something fierce. It's scaring Two Bit, too. He's looking you up and down, his eyebrows furrowed. "Janie? Are you ok?"

You open your mouth, about to tell him to shut the hell up and leave you alone, but you don't. You cough instead, and you can't stop. You keep on coughing, and your face feels hot and you think you might just die right here from coughing. Two Bit's run into the kitchen to get you water from the tap. You take it from him; he's patting your back now, but you shake him away. You take small sips of the water. You want to chug the whole thing, but you figure it will probably make you cough more, so you refrain from doing that. The water tastes dirty, like minerals, but you drink it anyway. That's how the water always tastes at your house.

Two Bit tells you to sit down, and you surprise yourself by listening. You're still breathing heavy, but Two Bit's rubbing your back, which is slightly calming. You're starting to realize how tired you are. You lay down on the couch, and Two Bit lays down with you. You decide, though, that lying down was a bad idea, because you start to cough again.

The rest of the night was torture, and not just for you, for Two Bit, too. The night consisted of you coughing, drinking water, and Two Bit rubbing your back, and hardly any sleep.

But it just gets worse from there.

**A/N I have a new story! I should be working on the Past and Present Playlist Challenge or my other story "Quotes", but I had to do this story. If you didn't catch on, it's Janie's (Two Bit's sister) POV. It's not a happy story. And I regret to inform you, the updates shall be at random, and there could be a great amount of spacing in between them. I hope you like it so far, and stick around to read the rest. Thanks for reading!**

**Layla**


	2. Chapter 2

A light turns on and your eyes flutter open. You don't want to go to school. You were up too late, and it's too early. You take a deep breath, and instantly know it was a mistake. You had learned over the course of the night to take small, even breaths. You tend to forget things when you're tired, and right now you're plain old exhausted. It's an annoying dry cough, that's made your throat hurt with a mixture of an ache and a stinging sensation.

Two Bit is by your side in an instant, already prepared with a cool glass of the dirty water you've decided you just about hate. You drink the water, and the coolness temporarily takes away the stinging, but not for long; you take another sip.

"Keith," you say, looking up at him. It's easier to say Keith than Two Bit, and it hurts your throat less. It lets him know you're serious. No one calls him Keith but Ma, and you, only when greatly needed. "I ain't going to school today."

"I ain't gonna make you." He flashes you a sad grin, and you smile back, grateful he understands.

"Keith, can you ditch today?" You ask. You're not sure why you're so hesitant all of a sudden; it wouldn't be that big of a deal if he said no, would it? You wait for his answer, and you can feel your heart beating with anticipation.

"Yeah, sure, Janie, anything for you. You need anything else right now?" He looks like he has something else that's more important on his mind. You are just his sister after all; you can't possibly be all that important. You get inwardly mad at yourself for thinking that. Two Bit loves you; why else would he stay home to take care of you? You brush it off as being worried and don't think about it again.

If you thought the night was torture, the day was Hell. It was more or less the same as the night, but you were more tired. You couldn't fall asleep, though, because the coughing kept you up, Two Bit too. You feel bad, because Two Bit's exhausted, even though he denies it.

He's sitting with you on the couch, rubbing your back like he was last night, with his eyes closed. You lean against him, and lay your head on his shoulder. Slowly, Two Bit stops rubbing your back; he's fallen asleep. You hook your arm around his elbow, and the both of you stay like that for what seemed all day. You try to cough less, or at least quietly, so you don't wake Two Bit. He deserves at least some sleep.

You don't know how long it took, but finally, thank the gods, you feel asleep, too.


	3. Chapter 3

Ma's boyfriend's been coming over a lot lately. Normally, it wouldn't have seemed like so much, but you were home all day. You hadn't been to school in at least a week, and Two Bit had been staying by your side the whole time. He says it's to take care of you, which isn't a complete lie, but you know it's also to keep Ma's boyfriend away from you. You don't like the way he leers at you when he thinks no one is looking.

One day, you don't know which day, because you stopped keeping track, Two Bit says you're going to stay at the Curtis's with him. You don't _not_ want to, but you don't want to have to bother then either. You agree anyway, because you don't have the strength to argue.

You pack up a bag of clothes and a toothbrush and you're out the door. You make it down the porch steps, but lately you've had a bad case of shortness of breath, so that really winds you. The deep breathing makes you start up a coughing fit again, and Two Bit decides it would just be easier to carry you. He picks you up bridal style and sits you down in the car. If it had been at any other time, you would have been annoyed by the fact that he carried you like that, but this time you were grateful.

It was clear when you got there that Two Bit had already had everything prearranged. This time you make sure you walk on your own; you are a big girl, after all. Darry gave you his armchair, because Two Bit explained how you couldn't lay down or you'd start a fit again. He keeps saying thank you, and you just nod in agreement, because you can't say much; it really tires you out.

The water tastes better here, you find out quickly. You wonder why for a short amount of time, but let it go, because, surprise surprise, you cough again.

The time, though, it isn't dry, and at first it's a relief, until your hand feels wet. You look down at your hand in confusion. You don't know what else to do; you tell Two Bit.

"Keith?" Your voice sounds gravelly; the coughing has made it raw. You show him your palm, red with blood and mucus. "Something's wrong."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N I lost my flash drive today at school. I cried for, like, ever. Oh, and I'm not a doctor, nor do I claim of having any medical knowledge; I'm just a writer. I do try my best, by researching and what not, but I can't be perfect.**

Two Bit excused himself after he helped you clean up the blood. He said he would be out for a while. He's been gone for hours now. You're beginning to worry he's never coming back; that he set everything up with the Curtis's so he could leave you there and never have to deal with you again.

Ponyboy and Johnny have been forced to babysit you. Really they just play cards and ask you if you need anything every once in a while. It's not so bad. After a while, you join in. You're playing 7-card stud. You don't really understand, but they explain it, and you suspect they go easy on you. You all play for smokes.

Eventually you run out of smokes and money, and the guys get bored. You suggest watching TV instead, and end up watching a rerun of Tom and Jerry.

Finally, it gets to you and you can't stop yourself from asking, "Where did Two Bit go?"

They won't look at you. You knew it; he's gone and he just left you here to fend for your own, sick and alone. You almost wish you hated him, but you understand. What normal person wants to take care of a sick, teenage girl? Two Bit has his own life, his own things to do, his own problems.

"He went out for something. He wouldn't tell us what. He just said he was going out and to watch you," it surprises you that it was Johnny who spoke. You've discovered he's shy around girls.

"That's it? That's all he said?" You start coughing again, and frankly, you're surprised you lasted this long without it.

Pony rushes to get you water and Johnny timidly pats your back. Eventually you stop coughing, as you always do.

Johnny tells you, "Ya, I swear, that's all he said." And you nod. He smiles at you, and you swear it's the first time you've ever seen him smile.

You don't talk the rest of the day. Johnny and Pony sit with you, and at some point Pony starts reading to both of you. It's some book called "Endless Nights" by that crime novel chick; An Agatha … Christie? You try to pay attention, you really, really do, but there is a lot on your mind and it's all too much all at one time.

Two Bit doesn't come home that night. Johnny sleeps on the couch and Darry stays up at night, claiming he doesn't have to work tomorrow. He's lying, he always working. He's keeping an eye on you. Whether it's for Two Bit, or you, you can't decide.

It's definite, you've decided. He's never coming back. It's understandable. You don't need him. You have Johnny and Pony and Soda and Darry and maybe even Steve will help. Dally's in the cooler now, so you've heard, but perhaps he would help out every now and then, too. Two Bit can go get drunk and party if he wants to. It's not your problem. You don't need him. You don't care if he never comes back. You don't need him.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank God, Two Bit came back. That's all you can think 'He came back. He hasn't left you. Oh, thank you, Lord.'

He came back with some doctor. There are cuts on his knuckles, and the doc won't look at Two Bit; you don't know if that scares you or makes you proud. The doc sure does look at you, though. He leers and his eyes linger on your chest. It's bustier than most girls your age. You've never particularly liked that trait about you. You can't ever tell if guys talk to you because they like you, or because they like your chest. It bothers you, and it's made you paranoid around guys.

"How old is she?" he asks, as if you're not there.

"Thirteen, so you better watch it." Good old Two Bit, always there to look out for you.

The doc, whose name you still haven't learned, takes out a stethoscope. He pulls out a chair to sit next to you. He slides the instrument under your shirt and bra, which is so much lower than you think is necessary. Like his lust filled eyes, his hand lingers. You shake, unused to the touch and he's making you nervous. He looks up at you, with frightened eyes, like a kid who was just caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and he pulls his hand out of your shirt as quickly as possible.

He checks your skin, looking at it closely as he turns your hand over and over, rubbing his thumb over it. He feels your face, your cheek, and your neck. You don't like it when he touches you; he's creepy, and his hands are cold. He tells you to breathe normally, and you try your best. It's quick, rapid, tiny breaths.

Next he feels your legs, around your thighs. Why do his dirty, old hands always have to linger?

"Do you always sweat this much?" He asks you.

"Huh, what?" you were a little disoriented. You were almost asleep.

He stands, and nods, as if he's done with you.

"I know what she has. I only have a few more questions. Have you had any sickness lately, say in the past, let's say, three months?"

You nod lazily. "Pneumonia. Two months ago."

"As I suspected," he turns to Two Bit, "The girl is dying." Two Bit frowns, momentarily confused. Then he collapses on the couch. His body is heaving with sobs. Nobody judges him when the gang walked in that moment. Even Dallas was with them; you guess he got out of the cooler. That rest of the gang had probably told him what was going on when they saw him.

"Dying? Dying from what, god damn it?" The gang stops moving, stops breathing, stops everything.

"A Pulmonary Edema. She got it from her pneumonia never being fully resolved. Her smoking just pushed it along sooner. She has all the symptoms: rapid breathing, coughing up blood, she has trouble breathing when lying down, swollen legs, pale skin, and abnormal heartbeat. A fever, lack of alertness. Yes, I'm certain. She's dying."

You stare straight ahead. You can't tell if you're not breathing at all, or too fast to tell the difference. Too many things are running through your head at one time.

It's official. You are dying. You can't say you're surprised. You thought it would be the same, when a doctor tells you you're dying when you already thought you were. It isn't. You don't have that glimmer of hope. That little light at the end of the tunnel. Now everything is dark, dead; dying, just like you.

**A/N Most people guessed it was TB. Close, but no cigar. It was one of the things I considered, but I didn't like the extreme contagion of it, so I went with this, which was perfect. Thanks for reading!**

**Layla**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N I'm am so very sorry for the long wait. I know it's been awhile. I had strep throat, and then my dog broke my flash drive (long story), and some…personal things came up. I'm really sorry about the wait. And I think I made Pony OOC, so if it seems strange, that's why. And I'm sorry but….I mention slash. I COULDN'T STOP MYSELF!**

You need a shower, you've decided. You feel gross. The fever's made you sweat and it's been hot lately, what with summer and all. You probably smell disgusting.

You go during the night, once everyone has fallen asleep. You have to. They'll try to stop you if they were awake. You have to crawl there, so it's good the house is small and nothing is too far away. It still takes you a lot of energy though.

When you get there, you have to rest. You lean against the toilet, close your eyes and just take even breaths. It feels nice, that you can breathe evenly now. You know it won't last for long, so you soak it all in while you can.

What seems like too soon, you open your eyes. You jump a little when you see Pony standing there. You thought you smelt cigarette smoke and chocolate, but you figured it was just some hallucination from this God awful fever. He looks confused, and you can't help but let out a chuckle. You're dying and he can still make you smile. "What are you doing, Janie?"

Slowly, as to not tire yourself out, you say, "I'm about to take a shower, Pony. Are you going to stop me, 'cause I would really rather you didn't."

"Aren't you tired? Can't it wait until morning?" he asks you tiredly. Why doesn't he understand?

"I smell gross. Smell me, Pony, smell me." You stick your arm out, pushing it toward him.

"You want me to smell you? I'll just take your word for it." He smiles at you after and grabs your hand to pull you up.

"Right. What do you think you're doing, Mister?"

"Well you wanted a shower didn't you? I'm pleasing the guest, that's all." He has to hold you up. You lean against him and breathe him in. He's taller than you, but not by much. He reaches for the knob that says hot in all capital letters inside the shower. He takes your hand again, you blush, and he puts it under the water. "Is that good?" You nod, and he smiles.

"Thank you. Can I take my shower now?"

"I suppose."

He turns to the door, ready to leave, and for some reason unbeknownst to you, you say, "Wait!" He turns to look at you, confused again. "Can, can you stay?"

He blushes, and you do too. "What, and take a shower with you? No offence or anything, I mean I like you and all, but I don't think Two Bit would be too happy with me."

"No, really?" you say sarcastically, "I meant just, like, I don't know, stay in the room."

He smirks at you, looks down, nods his head and says, "Yeah. Sure. Don't want you collapsing on me or anything. I mean, look at you. You can hardly stand."

You look down at your clothes and you think of something you hadn't before. "What are we gonna do about changing?"

He turns around, and for a second you think he's leaving, but he looks back over at you and says, "Don't worry, I won't peek."

You glance around, as if someone might pop out at you. Quickly, you shimmy out of your sweat-smelling clothes. You step under the hot spray of water and sigh. It felt so nice, to wash away all the toxins lurking on your body.

"Hey, Pony? What will happen when I," you take a deep breath to keep from choking back a sob, "when I die?"

"Don't talk like that, Janie. That doctor could have been lying. Maybe he's not a real doctor at all." Please. Of course you're dying. It's no use thinking otherwise.

"Right. Sure, Pony." Sarcasm leaks out of your voice, and you almost feel bad after you say it.

"Yeah, I know. But they said Johnny would die, and look at him," he states enthusiastically.

"I guess. Hey, can, um, I ask a question?" You ask hesitantly.

"Sure, shoot."

"Do you think I'm pretty? Like, seriously?"

"Yeah, you're pretty. Why, you ain't gonna become one of those girls who thinks they're ugly no matter what, are you?" he asks suspiciously.

"No. I was just asking. Can I ask another question?" This time you don't wait for an answer. "Hypothetically speaking, would you ever kiss me?"

He's silent for a while, until he takes a deep breath and says, "No." Your heart sinks.

"Oh. Can I ask why?" You try to act all nonchalant, like you really don't care.

"I probably would, if I was straight."

"Huh?" He must be just messing around. It's not like you have a problem with gays or anything. Two Bit always taught you that they were the same as anyone else, and it was okay to love someone of the same gender. It was one of the things that he took very seriously. Sure, he joked around and everything, but that's just how Two Bit was.

"Heh, I'm gay, Janie. I'm a fag, queer, homo. You know. I like guys."

"Oh. Ok. And just so you know, I don't think you needed to add the 'fag, queer, homo' part. I got what you meant. And it's totally fine. That's good for you."

"You…took that well."

"Yeah, so, can I ask more questions?"

"I guess, sure. But I get to have free passes not to answer them if I don't want to."

"Sounds like a deal," you agree, "So, who are you going out with? I mean, like you must be going out with someone if you're so positive you're gay. Or you at least like someone, right?"

"Well, I, I… Me and Johnny are together," he sputters out.

"You are? So Johnny's gay too? Yeah, I guess he'd sort of have to be. So, that time a couple days ago when we were playing cards and stuff, was I just an annoying third wheel to you guy's date?"

"Well, I wouldn't say annoying third wheel. But yeah, I guess you could call it that."

"Gee, I'm sorry. Another question, probably one you'll skip," you get a groan from this, "Have you guys, like, gone all the way?"

He clears his throat, and you wait a while, ready for him to say he'll pass on that question. Instead, he says, "Yeah. Yeah, we have." And you can practically see the smile on his face and the pink tint on his cheeks through the shower curtain.

"Do the gang know about you two?"

"Just Soda. And you."

"I'm not really part of the gang."

"Sure you are. If you weren't before, you are now."

"What, because I'm dying?" you spit out.

"Jesus Christ, would you stop saying that?"

"Yeah, sorry. How long have you been going out?" You ask quietly, now really feeling bad.

"We started going out a couple months after the church incident." That surprises you. That is a long time, and you never noticed.

Then quietly, hardly above a whisper, you ask, "Do you love him?"

Then, no more than a second passes and he answers, "Yes."

"That's nice. I always wanted to know what it was like to be in love. What's it like?" But before he can answer you, you realize something you hadn't before. You'll never live long enough to fall in love. Or learn to drive, or finish school, or any of the things you've dreamed of your whole life. And the reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks.

Your knees grow weak and you can no longer hold yourself up. You slide down and just sit under the stream of water. And then something terrible happens. You begin to cry. Not cry really. Full out sobbing. You're crying so hard you get the hiccups, and it makes it really hard to breathe. Not that you could breathe well to start with.

Pony's by your side in an instant. He has a towel and he wraps it around you, not that you really care if he sees you. Not now, at least. He picks you up out of the tub and sits you down on the edge of it, and he sits with you, just holding you.

Neither of you say a word for what seems like a long time. Then you laugh.

Pony looks at you funny. "What's so funny?"

"I guess it's a good thing you're gay." Pony just stares at you. Then, slowly, the edges of his mouth curl up into a smile, and he starts laughing too.

The laughing dies down, and eventually you get dressed. Pony insists on helping you stand while you get dressed, because your knees are still wobbly.

Later, while both of you are lying on the couch, Pony says, "We'd all be devastated if you died."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Okay! Some people liked my twist, and others did not, as expected. However, I will not change it. I'm not writing for just the fans, I write for myself as well. Nobody needs to worry, though. I'm not making the story just about a Pony/Johnny slash. It's still about Janie, it will just hint at Pony/Johnny.**

**Another thing; the medical information from this point on is mostly hypothesized. I can't find anything about it in the 60's, and trust me, I've been digging through the internet. Please don't get all, like, ROAR! about it. I realize not all of it is right. **

**Also, I only have a couple of chapters left. It's almost bittersweet.**

You and Pony fell asleep on the couch a little after that. Maybe everyone would be devastated. They might; who knows? But you still can't will yourself to believe it. You keep thinking of reasons they wouldn't care. Dallas and Steve have nothing to do with you in the first place; Darry would be happy that he doesn't have to pay for your care anymore; Soda would be relieved that there isn't so much sadness (that seems to follow you everywhere); Johnny is nervous around you anyway, and Pony is probably just taking care of you because Two Bit told him to. You think of a thousand other reasons, too, but none worth mentioning.

Nobody ever dares to say anything about your 'condition', but everything they say just silently continues in your head. 'I had fun trying to train you in track, Janie,' it's too bad you're dying and can never do anything about it. 'Hey, kid. You ever driven a car?' no, I guess not. You are dying.

All you can think about is how you're dying. You'll never do anything worthwhile. You'll always just be some greasy girl whose family couldn't afford a god damn doctor. No one will think of you and think 'I remember her, gosh, she was something. Really did something with her life.' All they'll think is 'It's too bad, dying at the young age of thirteen.'

At least your cough has stopped. Now you just have lots of trouble breathing. Two Bit talked to the doctor (whose name you still don't have the pleasure of being informed) about that. You think he might have had some hope that you could have been getting better. That doctor informed him it was normal. It would seem like it was getting better, and then it would get worse, and then you would die.

He never elaborated on how you would die. It might be a heart attack, or it might be that your lungs give out. It might be slow and painful, or it might be painless, during your sleep, perhaps. You just want fucking answers. The lack of them is making you furious.

You thought about all that, as you lie next to Pony. You can hear his even breathing and feel the slight up and down movement of his chest. You relish in the thought that he can breathe well and you can't. He's found love and you will never have that chance.

You used to imagine what this would be like, as pitiful as that sounds. You used to imagine what it would be like to have someone next to you that just holds you. But this isn't how you imagined it. It's not necessarily bad that it's different. You certainly didn't expect to be dying, but it's still nice if you forget about that.

Pony starts to stir and you close your eyes and pretend you were sleeping all along. You don't know why, but you don't want him to know you've been awake for a while. He yawns and stretches his arm until it bumps into you, to which you stir, as if just waking up.

The clock tells you that by now everyone is at work or still asleep. Two Bit and Dally are probably still asleep; it isn't one o'clock yet. Soda, Darry and Steve are at work. So it's just you, Johnny and Pony. You know Johnny slept over last night, and that Two Bit and Dally crashed at Buck's. They probably won't be around for a while.

Pony steps over you and goes to wake up Johnny. He shakes him awake and Johnny rolls over while mumbling something that sounds like, "Gah, leave me alone. It's not time to wake up yet." But you can't be too sure. Pony just smiles, a glint in his eye, and pulls Johnny up by his arm.

"Ah, Pony. Okay! I'm up, I'm up." This time it's easy to hear him. It's clear he is not a morning person.

You scoot over and they both sit on the couch with you. Pony's lightheartedness goes away and he says, looking over to Johnny and you, "Janie. Johnny. We have to talk."

Both you and Johnny show a look of confusion. What's he want to talk about so bad?

"Johnny," he takes a deep breath and looks Johnny straight in the eyes, "I told Janie."

"You….told Janie what?" You still don't know if he was actually confused or just playing dumb. He looks over at you, questioning, then back to Pony.

"You know," Pony looks around, making sure no one is around to hear their dirty little secret. "About us," he whispers.

Johnny is silent for a while. It almost scares you, how silent it is. It's never silent here, and you decide it never should be again.

Johnny sighs, looks up and says a simple 'okay' and ends it with that.

"Just 'okay'? You're not mad?" asked Pony, rather worriedly.

"Well, I guess I sort of wish you asked me first, and that I could tell her, too, but yeah. I'm cool with it. I trust Janie." He gives you a small grin.

The cynical part of your brain tells you that he only says he trusts you because you're dying and you probably won't have the time, energy, or patience to tell anyone; but you brush that aside.

You give Johnny a big toothy grin (that you're sure makes you look ridiculous) that shows your gratitude. You pull him and Pony into a bear hug, which shocks them both. After a couple of seconds you feel them hug you back, even Johnny.

Later that day, after lunch, you talk to Johnny and Pony.

"So, when do you guys plan to tell the gang?" you inquire.

"Well… We don't know. What if they don't accept us?" Johnny answers quietly.

"Oh, they'll be fine. Don't let them bother you."

"How can we not let them bother us if they don't like it? They are the only family we have." Pony says.

"Well, you love each other, don't you?"

They look at each, and you can see them grin, and they look back at you and nod.

"Then… if they don't accept you, which they will, then you always have each other."

None of you discuss the topic again. You don't have time to. You can hear Darry's truck pull up, with Darry, Soda and Steve. Apparently, Two Bit and Dally were on their way, so Darry picked them up when they were coming home.

When the gang were having dinner that night (which you politely declined), you set about to work. You know you'll die really soon. The doctor says not to be so sure, but you can feel it. You can't explain it, but something tells you that you won't last past this week.

You write letters to everyone in the gang. One is addressed to everyone, and the rest are address individually.

Two Bit sits by you that night. He talks and talks and talks, and it's comforting that your brother's voice is the last thing you here before you die.

Yes, you died that night. You simply fell asleep and somewhere along the night you stopped breathing. It was painless, and for that you are grateful.

**A/N Okay, don't worry. It isn't over yet. I'm going to write the letters Janie wrote, and then it will be over. Please review! I would have updated yesterday, but it was my birthday! Reviews shall be presents, then, hmm?**

**Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting and following! I appreciate every one of them!**

**Layla**


	8. Everybody

**A/N Howdy! This one is the letter Janie wrote to everyone. Hope you like it!**

Hey guys,

I guess I finally kicked the bucket. I want y'all to know that I'm glad I lived as long as I did. I got more than a lot of kids did, and that makes me happy. I had a family. I had you guys.

And that disease I had, it was painful. It was hard and tiring and death was almost a relief. So be happy it's over for me.

I don't want you to mourn over my death (maybe for a week or two, but that's it), I want you to celebrate my life. And I don't want any excuses. You better keep on being happy, all of you.

I wrote you each letters. I only want you to read your own letters. No sharing. Trust me, I'm watching, so I'll now.

I want you to take everything I say into consideration. At least think about everything I say. Don't just brush it off. I've spent a lot of time around you lately, and I've noticed things about all of you. I know what I'm talking about.

When you think of me in the future, I want you to think of the good times we had. I don't want you think of my last month, when I was sick and looked lousy. I want you to think of Janie Mathews and smile.

I want you to continue with all your lives. You all think it's Pony who can get somewhere but you're wrong. You can all go so far with your lives. I know you can.

You can all be something wonderful, even when I couldn't. You need to be, for me. For each other. For yourself.

Some of you I never knew well, and some of you I knew my whole life, but you guys are hands down, the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you all.

Janie


	9. Two Bit

Keith,

I know you're sad right now. I want you to stop. Think of me and smile, don't cry. Joke about that time I told you I was amazing at hopscotch, and then tripped and fell and got a bloody nose.

I know you love that story. I do to. You know why? Because of what happened after that. The part you never tell. You took me inside and cleaned up my nose and calmed me down from crying. You promised me you wouldn't tell Mom, and then you took me to go get an ice cream.

I know we fight a lot, Two Bit, but I never resented you for that. I know now that you were just looking out for me, and wanted what was best.

People think you aren't responsible, but I know that's a lie. I know you look out for me and Mom, and you look out for the gang. You joke and drink and screw around with blondes a lot, but you have a lot you have to deal with. I understand.

I know you probably won't listen to me, but now I need to tell you what's best for you. Drink less. I'm definitely not telling you to stop drinking, but you don't need to drink so much. Please.

Help Mom around the house every once in a while. She needs the help. She has so much on her shoulders, even though she acts like she doesn't. Surprise her.

Find someone to settle down with. Not now, but eventually. You're a good man; you need a good girl. Find someone who makes you happy, and who likes your jokes and can deal with watching so much Mickey Mouse. Realize she doesn't have to be blonde.

Pass high school before they kick you out. You can be something, Keith, I know you can. You can get through high school, but you haven't because you don't feel like it. Get your act together. I mean that in the nicest way possible. You're not a kid any more. You can act like one all you want, but that doesn't make you one.

I love you, Two Bit, and I know that you loved me, too. I never doubted that.

Janie


	10. Pony

Pony,

You want to know something funny? You probably knew this, but I really wanted to go out with you before. I liked you a lot. But I couldn't and I understand, and believe me, I'm happy for you. I'm glad you could find someone you love, who loves you back.

I want you to get out of here, all of you, out of Tulsa. Go somewhere and be someone, so when I see you again you can tell me what it's like.

Gosh, Ponyboy, you need to tell the gang about you and Johnny. They'll understand. I know they will. Darry loves unconditionally, even though you fight. Two Bit has nothing against gays. Dally won't care because it makes Johnny happy, and everyone knows he has a soft spot for Johnny. The only person I'm not sure about is Steve, but you've never cared about Steve's opinion, and Soda will calm him down anyway.

You've found someone who loves you, Pony. Don't take it for granted, because it could leave at any second.

Don't get so mad at Darry all the time. He cares about you, he does. You have to remember that he took you in under sudden tragedy, and he's still just a kid, too. He loved your mom and dad, too. He was hurt by it as well. Remember that. He tries so hard for you. He wants you to be as much as you can be. Stop getting so mad at him for it. Give him a little leeway.

I want to thank you, for all that you've done for me. You've taught me what it's like to truly love, even though I could never experience myself. You've helped me with track, and you tutored me in fractions when I couldn't understand them. You've done more than you think. You're an amazing person and I never want you to doubt yourself.

You could be a track star (I've seen you at your races) or you could be an author or you could be a doctor or a teacher. You could be something special.

Don't ever take any moment for granted. Every moment is a miracle. If it isn't a good moment, make it one. Stop caring so much about what other people think of you. Smoke a little less, laugh a little more. Be spontaneous, but still use your head.

I'll be with your mom and dad now. Don't worry about me. They'll take care of me.

Janie


	11. Johnny

Johnny,

We never talked much, but I know a lot about you. I know you have a great poker face. I know you absolutely hate the name Johnnycake, but you like that the gang cares enough to give you the nickname. You didn't mean to kill the Soc, but you would again if you had to for Pony. You wished your parents loved you. You love Ponyboy Curtis.

I know about you but you don't know about me, so I want to tell you some things about me. I'm terrible at poker, and I prefer go fish. My favorite show is "Bewitched". I have always, always hated my name, Janet. I wish Mom would stop bringing over her boyfriends and spend more time with us. I've never loved anyone like you have.

Don't let Pony go. He's a catch, and he loves you so much, he would jump over the moon to please you. I asked him once about it, if he loved you, I mean, and he didn't even have to think about it. A catch, I tell you.

I told Pony this, but I'll tell you, too. You have to tell the gang. They'll always stick with you guys.

I asked Pony what it was like to be in love, but he didn't have the chance to answer me, and I wish he had, but I know. I know by watching you what it's like.

I'm happy for you guys, no matter what your decision is. I don't know if you actually trusted me, but it means so much to me that you said it. Thank you.

I'm sure you don't want to hear this from me, but I'm sorry about your parents. I truly am. You deserve love from them, and it's not right that you don't get. It's not right that you keep wanting to go back hoping they'll change their minds. It's not right, and it's not fair.

I'm sorry for the amount of hardship you've had to endure. You are only seventeen, and no kid deserves that. And I know you might be thinking that I was only thirteen, and I ended up dying, but you endured more than I did. Soc's don't jump me, and while my dad left us, our parents never beat us. I've never killed anyone, nor have I needed to. So, in comparison, the only thing we have in common is that we've been close to death.

I know you think you're stupid, because I've heard you say it so many times before, but you aren't. You just take longer to understand things, and people don't have the patience to wait for you. Don't let that stop you. Finish school. I want you to finish because I want you all out of here. To be something you thought you couldn't be.

I've barely ever talked to you, but I feel like I know you now, and I can honestly say I will miss you.

Janie


	12. Darry

Darry,

I am sorry. I'm sorry I worried you. I'm sorry I wasted your time. I'm sorry that I ate your food, and used your money when you already had enough mouths to feed and bills to pay.

Thank you, for allowing me to do so. Thank you. Thank you for everything you've done for me and my family. We owe you so much.

Thank you for putting those stitches in my arm when I feel off my bike. Thank you for posting Two Bit's bail money when Mom couldn't. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much.

You're a wonderful person. You are a marvelous brother. Not many people would take in their kid brothers instead of going to college. Never forget that. You've made mistakes, but you're so much better than most other people.

You do, however, need to give Pony a chance. He's a kid. You have a lot of responsibilities now, but you're his guardian, his brother, not his parent. He feels like you've forgotten what it used to be like. Remember, for him. Remember how things used to be like.

Don't give up on college just yet. You can go when Pony leaves. Pony thinks you blame him for not being able to go. I know that isn't the case. Show him I'm right. It's not his fault, and we both know it.

Pony loves you, and he knows you love him, but he just wants you to go easy on him. He tries so hard to make you proud, and all you do is shoot him down. Stop with that. Get mad at him when he deserves it.

Your parents would be so proud of you. _Never _forget that.

Janie


	13. Soda

Soda,

Pony talks about you all the time, you know? Gosh, he loves you bucket loads. I don't know why I'm telling you this, I'm sure you know already.

You're a great brother, both you and Darry. Believe me, when it comes to siblings, you hit a home run. Two Bit and me get along well, but nothing like you guys.

I know it's been a while, and it none of my business, but I'm sorry about Sandy. I can tell you're still down about it. I'm not gonna tell you not to be, like some other people might, because I understand why you would be mad or sad or frustrated. What she did was terrible, and I don't have excuses for her. However, I will say that you shouldn't let it ruin your life. Simmer over it, be sad, get angry. Move on when it's right, not when people say it's right.

You guys weren't the only ones who suffered when your parents died. When I found out what l happened I cried in my room for days. Your dad was like the father I never had. God knows Ma's boyfriends aren't consistent or caring enough for that role. Your mother was what I can proudly say my biggest role model.

Your father taught me how to throw a football; an art I still have yet to master. He taught me how to build a birdhouse, too. What a wreck that was. I still have it, if you want it. Two-Bit will know where it is. He likes to take it out and make fun of it every once and a while.

Your Ma, she showed me how to sew a dress. My first one was hideous, but I got better at it. She taught me how to put make-up on, and new neat ways to do my hair. She was always so kind and welcoming to everyone.

Don't go over to 'Nam and fight that war. And wipe that shocked look off of your face. I heard you and Steve whispering (which reminds me, you really should work on your whispers). I don't want you think about it any longer. If I find out you get over there, so help me God, all your hair will fail off your head. Wait, you would have shaven your head, wouldn't you? Well, I don't know. Something bad will happen. So watch out.

About school, I know you hate being there, so I'm not going to even try and push you into going back. However, I don't want you to stay a gas station attendant your whole life. Find something that makes you genuinely happy.

Janie


	14. Steve

Steve,

It's stupid of me to write you a letter. You'll probably trash it anyway, but I figured, hey, I'm dying anyway. What else am I going to do?

Besides, since I don't know you too well, the letter will be short. You can suffer through it.

I'm gonna be blunt here; stop being such an ass to Ponyboy. He hasn't done anything to you that you haven't started. Soda's gonna catch on one day and you'll have your ass in a sling.

You don't have to be such a stick in the mud either. Smiling won't kill you.

I know you and your dad sort of duke it out with each other. I don't really know your situation with him too well. I do know that it can't be touch and go forever. You have to figure something out.

I'm sorry I sound so … bitchy. I'm dying. I don't really have time to beat around the bush, or mind my manners.

Janie


	15. Dally

Dally,

Like Steve, you'll probably just trash this letter, but I'll write it anyways. Maybe you'll humor me.

You don't have to be an all out criminal. You let it slide when Mrs. Curtis was around. It's just that if you keep it up you're gonna end up dead under a street light and it'll be your own God damn fault. You can't keep falling back on people to blame for things that you started.

Whether you like it or not, you're not completely cold. You care about Johnny, and you care about the gang. It doesn't make you weaker to care about people. It means you have more to fight for.

I'd probably never tell you any of this if I were alive and well. It's not that you scare me (even though you probably should), it's just I don't think you'd listen to me.

I have more to tell you, but I don't really have the energy to write it.

All you need to know is: Don't be so cold, Dallas Winston.

Janie


End file.
